


if I'm known for anything it's making bad decisions

by Polyhexian



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers: Rescue Bots Academy (Cartoon)
Genre: Family, Fluff, Gen, IDW whirl is RBA Whirl's mom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-10
Updated: 2019-09-10
Packaged: 2020-10-13 20:08:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20588357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Polyhexian/pseuds/Polyhexian
Summary: "You've got a what?" Hot Shot balked."A mom. A parent.""Huh?" Gaped Wedge, "How do you have a mom?? You're Cybertronian!"





	if I'm known for anything it's making bad decisions

Hot Shot kicked his pedes back and forth beneath his desk absently, imagining it was a soccer ball. He missed cube, and Cody had been showing him an earth sport that morning that was sort of similar. He hadn't been especially good at it at first, the ball was much too small for him and difficult to aim for, but he always liked a challenge and he was itching to get another shot at playing later, if Cody would be interested.

"Hot Shot, are you listening?"

"Huh?" Hot Shot looked up as Boulder sighed. "Sorry professor."

"I know, Hot Shot, but please pay attention. I know Earth Studies isn't as exciting as rescue work, but it's important to understand the planet you're living on and the species you're living with. Remember that the humans of Griffin Rock have to work twice as hard to learn Cybertronian studies."

"I know, I know," he sighed, feeling guilty for letting himself become distracted. He really was trying, but sometimes his mind just slipped away from him if the subject didn't interest him, no matter how hard he tried. "What were we talking about? Um, chapter four talks about disabilities in humans and how that affects rescue work, right?"

"Yes, Hot Shot, I'm impressed you've read ahead!" Boulder brightened, and Hot Shot felt a little bad again, he'd read ahead technically, but only because he skipped the boring chapters that didn't talk about rescuing anyone, "but we're still on chapter three today, family units."

"Oh," Hot Shot said, flatly, embarrassed.

"It's okay, Hot Shot, I can summarize," said Medix, straightening up and clearing his vocalizer, "humans are an organic species, and like most organic species they reproduce with one another and raise their young in units, unlike Cybertronians who are built with the basic functions to survive independently. Humans are not considered independent until their eighteenth solar cycle."

"Thank you, Medix, very good!" Boulder smiled, "You've already met several humans who are considered adults. Cody is a very young adult, while Chief Burns is a much older one. Wedge, your friend Wes is not quite an adult yet, he's only sixteen, so he still lives with his parents. Can you tell me how many parents a human usually has?"

"Of course, professor!" Said Wedge, "Typically humans have two parents, since humans reproduce in pairs, but sometimes they have one or more than two, and sometimes human parents split up and then make new pairs."

"I think it's really confusing," admitted Hoist, leaning forward, "why do parents raise them at all? Wouldn't it make more sense for there to be like, some kind of boot camp to do that?"

"Eighteen years is a long time for humans, Hoist," said Boulder, "and until they adults, humans can be as fragile as unforged protoforms sometimes! They really need one on one supervision sometimes."

"Not to mention, parents really love their kids," added Whirl.

"That, too," said Boulder, warmly.

"It does seem ineffecient," commented Medix, "how could one be certain they would be adequate at training an infant human to be a functioning adult human without being properly trained for the task themselves? No, it seems much more logical to have parental rearing done by qualified professionals, in my opinion."

"It's a little more complicated than just training," said Whirl, turning to Medix, "Parents love their children and they enjoy spending time together. Even if they aren't trained, they figure it out, and that's a part of the experience."

"How do you know so much about it?" Medix challenged, a bit annoyed to have his logic confronted.

"Because, dummy! I've got a mom!" Whirl laughed.

"You've got a what?" Hot Shot balked.

"A mom. A parent."

"Huh?" Gaped Wedge, "How do you have a mom?? You're Cybertronian!"

"Yup," said Whirl, "I sure am. But, uh, I'm not a transformer, actually. I mean, I am right now, I decided I wanted to be, but what I mean is, I wasn't always and if I wanted to be something else I could be, but I'd rather not, and-"

"What??? How can you be Cybertronian and not a Transformer??" Medix cried, raising his servos in the air incredulously.

"Whirl is from Cybertron, so she's a Cybertronian," Boulder said gently, "She means she's a different species than you. Whirl is actually technically a scraplet colony."

"You're a what?!" Shrieked Hot Shot, his mind flooded by images of himself covered in flesh eating scraplets.

Whirl rolled her eyes and snorted, "I'm a scraplet colony, you heard him. But we've got a hivemind, you know, and when we're together, we're me! And I'm Whirl. My mom found me and raised me on Cybertron. I thought about being a turbofox for awhile, but, that was just a phase. Mom used to bring me to the park to run around anyway, though."

"You're, uh, you're not going to, uh-" stammered Hoist, eyes darting back and forth between Whirls rotors and her pedes, suddenly unsure if they were going to stay together or burst into scraplets at any moment.

"I'm not going to eat you," Whirl scoffed, "In fact, I don't eat energon at all, which means there's more for you guys. You should be thanking me."

"I, uh, thank you," said Wedge, bewildered. "I'm sorry, Whirl, I guess we're just sort of, uh, startled, is all. You're still our friend. Right guys?"

The other three agreed quickly, if still recoiling from surprise.

"You know, Whirl, since you do have a family unit, it might be a good learning experience to invite him to visit! Is your mom available right now?"

"His parole doesn't let him go off world," Whirl sighed sadly, "but I really wish I could show Mom the academy. I've sent him lots of photos, but, it's not the same."

"Don't worry, I'm sure Optimus will be willing to make an exception for one day if it's just a visit."

"Really?!" Cried Whirl, bouncing in her seat, "Professor, that would be amazing!! Mom would love seeing where I go to school!"

"And I'm sure it would be an educational experience for everyone!" Boulder nodded happily, "I'll speak to him today. After class, though! We've still got an hour until you're out of here."

"Aw," said Hot Shot. Usually tangents like this got them out of class early.

"That's okay, professor!" Beamed Whirl, "I can't wait!"

* * *

Hot shot fidgeted on his pedes, teetering back and forth between each as whirl talked to Heatwave beside the space bridge controls. He wondered what Whirl's mom would look like. Would he look like her? Would he be just a big giant scraplet? Whirl said he was out on parole- was he some kind of criminal?

The space bridge Nexus lit bright green.

"Alright, come on through," said Heatwave, tapping his communicator. The swirling green energy parted like sideways water, and the biggest bot Hot Shot had ever seen in his entire life stepped through.

Oh, Primus. What a strange looking Autobot. He was so tall he had to duck even in the hanger, easily dwarfing Heatwave, a bizarre blue flight-kibbled and plasma scarred Cyb with a single optic for a face and claws like scissors for hands. His legs wrapped around backward like an earth quadriped's, on tiny little feet. His chest jutted out at a perpendicular angle, bearing two orange safety-capped missile launchers. His platework was a patchwork of protoform metal and non Cybertronian alloys, the Hallmark of an old frame, a soldier from the war era that never reformatted.

"Where's my precious baby girl!" Cried their behemoth guest in a baby voice through a static spitting vocalizer. Another Hallmark of a delayed reformat. Someone was certainly putting off repair work. Hot Shot thought back to the time he had played a Victory City game in Tyger Pax, along Autobot Row. There had been a war veteran meet and greet event afterward for players, and he remembered seeing similar traits on them. Scuttlebug scars along battered chassis fixed by many labour rather than stasis pods, a luxury few could afford during the previous generations war. Brightly painted autobrands set over deeply marred protoform flesh, the smell of off world paint on non amalgamated repair parts. He had been fascinated by their war stories and the heroic way they spoke. The war had gone on for so long and sounded so terrible. Sometimes Hot Shot wondered how anyone had survived at all, the way they spoke about it.

"Mom!" Cried Whirl, looked embarrassed. She hopped up on the platform to hug the old soldier.

"Ah, Whirlygirl, it's so good to see ya! Look at you, you've grown a decaquartex, I swear! I feel like I don't even recognize ya."

"Mom, I look exactly the same. I haven't changed my height since I was on Cybertron."

"Don't you be telling your ol' ma no fibs, now, you hear, my spark can't take it. Now wheres your friends, it's about time I sized em up "

Hot Shot froze, feeling even more anxious than before.

"Welcome to Earth, Whirl," said Heatwave, dryly.

"Flames hotsman!" Cried the soldier, throwing up his arms, "I've heard so much about you, pleasure to meet ya."

"Mm," said Heatwave, and Hot Shot noticed he completely ignored the nickname, "Optimus has told me plenty about you, too. Please try to behave while your here. This is a school, remember."

"Well how could I forget!" Laughed Whirl's mom, "Whirlygirl here spent enough days studying for your wacky little entrance exams. How easy do you think it is to hold flashcards with these?" He waved his claws about for emphasis.

"Mom, Mom!" Said Whirl, tugging at her mom's arm, "come meet my friends!"

"Right-o!" The other Whirl trotted down the ramp to Hot Shot and the other recruits, "Psst, which one is the cute one?"

Whirl's faceplate lit up energon blue as her yellow optics widened, "Mom! Sh!"

Hot Shot was suddenly extremely curious which was the cute one. It was definitely him. Like it was definitely him, right? His optics darted to Wedge, who was already looking at him with an undoubtedly similar thought.

"Mom, this is Hot Shot, Hoist, Wedge, and Medix! Guys, this is my Mom! His name is also Whirl."

"Uh, hello, sir," said Hot Shot, anxiously, "It's a pleasure to meet you."

The older Whirl's single optic narrowed at him and then opened, brightening, "Hang on a nanoklik, I recognize you! You're on TV, ain't you some kinda sports star? What are you doin' out here?"

"Optimus Prime suggested I join the Rescue Bots, sir," he answered.

"Ahhh, don't trust that guy," said the older Whirl with a wave of his claw, "he's fulla hot oil."

"It's nice to meet you," interjected Wedge, clearly sensing Medix was about to blurt something he shouldn't, "Whirl said you found her as a sparkling. I think it's really cool that you raised her even though you're a Cybertronian and that's not what we normally do."

"Ah, you do a lot of things that ain't normal when you get this old. Why, I oughta tell you about the time I pulled out a Quintessons upper intestinal track through his-"

"Mom! Not appropriate!" Hissed Whirl. Her mom placed a claw on her head as if she had hair to ruffle.

"Aw, Whirlygirl, even post-war newsparks gotta grow up sometime. Hey, why don't I show them some of my ol' holovids, Rewind helped me make a wicked highlight reel that-"

"Hoooow about I show you my room, instead?" Whirl said quickly, cutting him off. She grabbed one of his claws and led him away, toward the room's exit. "I'll catch up with you guys in a bit, okay!" Said Whirl quickly as they left.

Heatwave shut down the space bridge with a sigh once the Whirl's were gone. "I told Boulder this was a bad idea."

"Whirl's mother is… strange," said Medix, after a moment of silent contemplation.

"That's an understatement," mumbled Hoist, blinking.


End file.
